


the best requiem is a bar of silence (and I'll sing it, even if I must hold back my tears)

by jello12451



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Family, Family Dynamics, Friendship Emeralds, Gen, Heavy Angst, I need to stop hurting Phil, Spoilers for December 16th stream, Tommy is terrible at being a raccoon, Tubbo screwed up, What if December 16th was just as bad as November 16th
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:40:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28141776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jello12451/pseuds/jello12451
Summary: He can’t help the noise of celebration that escapes him. Techno- this means that Techno’s free, and he got his horse back, and everything is alright-Tubbo, filled with rage at Phil’s cheers, turns and impulsively shoots an arrow.He doesn’t expect to hit his target.Alternatively: What if Phil didn't have a bucket of water when Tubbo shot him?
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & Phil Watson, Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Comments: 339
Kudos: 1529





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Angst again  
> What do you guys even expect at this point

It happened so quickly.

Too quickly.

It was just another normal day- Phil had been minding his own business, definitely not preparing to meet his son up at his house, moving a few things around when the butcher army came knocking at his front door.

Rather, they rang the bell enough times to give Phil a migraine. 

It was fine. Everything was fine. There was nothing that could possibly go wrong.

Then they asked, quite insistently, for where Techno lives, and things started to go terribly awry. 

Phil’s heart hammered in his ears as he stared down the other four people in his house. “I’m not going to tell you where he lives.”

“For the country, Phil.” Quackity coaxed. “You’re a citizen of L’Manburg. We’re trying to get justice for the country- you should care as much about this as we do.”

Phil nearly snorted at that. “See, Quackity, I don’t understand where you got my loyalty to L’Manburg from. I’ve only been here for a month- and quite frankly, all of you-  _ all of you. _ ” He eyes Fundy and Tubbo at this. “Have yet to prove to me that you’re worthy of my loyalty.”

“What-” Fundy spluttered. “I’m your  _ grandson! _ ”

“My  _ grandson, _ ” Phil nearly snarled. “Is covered in blood and is hunting down my  _ son. _ And Fundy, mate, you have to understand that I don’t just accept someone as a grandson. To me, you’re just a friend.”

“I’m your son too.” Tubbo protested.

Phil’s heart clenches at the sight of the boy that he had found, taken in and raised alongside Tommy. But Tubbo’s changed. Phil can see the same way that he saw the glint in Tommy’s eyes dim, and the way Wilbur’s eyes were completely different from the normal, soft brown right before his final moments. And the same way Techno’s bloodred ones calmed significantly after accepting his goal was far from his reach.

Phil is observant, and he sees all of this.

“Technoblade has changed.” Phil grits out. “He’s minding his own business now- in retirement. He’s changed. You have no business hunting down your brother now, Tubbo.”

Tubbo flinches violently. 

The fourth member of their group, Ranboo, says nothing.

And of course, they take to ransacking his house. Phil’s fine with it- everything that’s of much value to him is in his ender chest.

...or so he thought.

The shouts of glee from the butcher army ring in his ears when he finds his compass-  _ why didn’t he put that away sooner? _ \- and he’s panicking- he doesn’t know what to  _ do. _ Techno- he needs to inform Techno.

“Philza Minecraft.”

Phil gets pulled back into the present at Quackity’s cold tone. 

“Remember that you were not cooperative today.”

~

_ Ph1lza whispers to you: they know where you are. Get ready, old friend. _

_ You whisper to Ph1lza: ??? _

_ You whisper to Ph1lza: Who is they? _

_ Ph1lza whispers to you: they found the compass _

_ You whisper to Ph1lza: WHO?? _

_ Ph1lza whispers to you: Quackity, Tubbo, Fundy and Ranboo _

~

Upon receiving the messages from Phil, Techno’s heart rate had gone up. The compass he’d given him- he  _ knew _ that Phil would never willingly give the compass away, not with the meaning behind it and what it entailed-

_ Phil- Phil, I want you to have something. _

_ Oh? _

His mind was in a haze as he ran around his chests, quickly rifling through them for the proper materials to brew potions. He was not at all ready for war- it’s been a long time since he last was.

_ Phil- you’ve got to understand that you’re my only friend left in this world. I can’t lose you too.  _

_ Techno, mate, what’s all this about? _

He watched as the nether wart brewed into the water bottles, then quickly switched out the ingredients, making potion after potion- strength two, swiftness, regeneration, potion of the turtle master… he barely registered burning his hand when his hand got too close to the blaze powder that powered the brewing stand. 

_ I think this is the start of a new era, okay? You know I tried the whole violence route. I tried violence, I tried to reason with them, I tried to stop government at all costs but it didn't work; I could not change the hearts of men- the greed- it was too hard to drive out, so you know what? I'm just going into retirement, Phil. I'm just going to chill. I'm going to stop using violence to convince people- I'm just going to chill in the Arctic North... Maybe I'll start a farm or something, y'know? I'll stop being a terrorist because it ain't convincing nobody Phil. They just keep making new governments. I still believe... that governments are no good- they're just ruining everything- but you know... people are free to make their mistakes at this point. _

He fumbled as he put the items into his inventory. How pathetic he was- the blood god, the renowned warrior, fumbling with a few simple potions. He even forgot that he doesn’t even have a shield. There’s a totem of undying in his inventory, and- water bucket, he needs a water bucket, and his axe-

_ But I want you to have this compass, Phil. No matter what, it will always point to me. _

_ Point to you, or the lodestone in the corner? _

_ Well, the lodestone in the corner. But my point remains. _

He’s sweating. Why is he sweating? It’s not like the climate of the biome he lives in is hot, and he’s never been nervous before a battle before. His hands are shaking, too-  _ why are they shaking? _ What’s wrong with him?

_ If you ever need me, Phil, and I mean ever- I will fight for you. I will do whatever it takes to help you. Alright? _

_ Techno… _

His thoughts are on repeat as he alternates between checking his potions and inserting new ingredients as well as checking out his window, full of paranoia. It goes on like that for what seems like a small eternity- the shaking, the terror, all of it. 

_ Oh, and there’s something else. _

_ What are these? _

_ Emeralds. A token of our friendship. _

_ Friendship emeralds? _

_...well, I suppose. _

_ Name them, then. Makes them even more special. _

Logically, he knows that there’s no reason for him to be scared. It’s not like they’re sending  _ Dream _ after him- it’s Tubbo, Quackity, Fundy, and Ranboo. And although one of them is technically his brother, he will have no difficulty harming them if they’ve done something to Phil. Which he is almost certain that they did. 

There’s no way they didn’t. Phil wouldn’t lie to him... Phil wouldn’t give his compass away. 

Techno repeated it like a mantra as he continued his preparations.

The battle itself is short. But only because he left one of his only weaknesses in the open- how could he forget about Carl?

Needless to say, Techno follows after them, with no armour, no weapons, nothing.

He hates the smirk that Quackity gives him as he climbs into the boat with Tubbo.

~

“You actually got him.”

Phil is surprised until he sees the horse trailing behind the company. Armourless, but Phil would recognize Techno’s beloved steed anywhere. 

“PHIL!”

The man startles the slightest bit upon hearing the cry, and he snaps back to attention to see Techno running under the balcony on which he is standing, looking up at him.

“PHIL, WHAT DID THEY DO TO YOU? PHIL!”

“They- they put a monitor on my ankle, I can’t leave the house!” Phil shouts back, and he sees Techno’s relief flash across his face, before the implications dawn on him.

He’s alone, here.

“You guys  _ leave Phil alone, _ just take me, please-” Techno pleads, and Tubbo’s face goes stoic at those words. 

Phil watches with horror as Techno is forced into the cage. He knows that Techno has three lives, unlike himself, but he would much rather prefer having a son that isn’t already dead or close to the brink of death. He can see the contraption they’ve built- a simple mechanism that stretches twenty blocks high, ready to drop an anvil on Techno at any moment.

Phil grows sick to the stomach. This is a public execution.

He’s being forced to watch his son’s public execution. 

And they’re getting ready to pull the lever, and bile rises up in Phil’s throat as he looks on, but he’s unable to do anything, and he watches, and-

Punz comes flying out of the sky.

It’s actually quite funny, and a bit of chaos breaks loose as Punz puts TNT all over that the others are quick to destroy, but Quackity remembers their original goal and  _ pulls the lever- _

Phil aims his bow, though he knows that the arrow he fires won’t be able to stop the anvil.

And-

Techno has a  _ totem of undying? _

It’s enough. He manages to run away, and the sheer relief that Phil feels is unparalleled to anything he has ever felt before. He can’t help but snark to the butcher army.

“Sucks to suck.”

He barely dodges the arrow that comes flying his way- fired by his  _ own son. _

More time passes, and Ghostbur shows up- There is still a hollow ache in his chest when he sees his dead son, because he’s reminded of the murder- but Ghostbur is so undeniably wholesome at times, and the butcher army humours him for a while, all of them- except for Quackity- stopping in their search for Technoblade.

(Phil wonders if Ghostbur is smarter than others give him credit for, if he caused a distraction simply to help his brother escape. He knows that, even though Ghostbur has forgotten many things… he remembers his brother.)

And the death message-

_ Quackity was slain by Technoblade. _

He can’t help the noise of celebration that escapes him. Techno- this means that Techno’s free, and he got his horse back, and everything is alright-

Tubbo, filled with rage at Phil’s cheers, turns and impulsively shoots an arrow.

He doesn’t expect to hit his target.

Phil stumbles back as the arrow hits him squarely, right below his heart- just enough to cause severe but not yet fatal damage, and he is briefly relieved- but what he  _ doesn’t _ account for is the flame on Tubbo’s bow, and he  _ burns _ , taking even more damage.

He checks his inventory, but he doesn’t have a bucket of water- of  _ course _ , he has everything  _ but _ his bucket of water, why didn’t he take it with him? The one thing that could’ve saved him- out of  _ all the things- _

He collapses onto the ground, feeling the fire take him away. His numb hands find the emerald he kept with him, running his fingers over the engravings, identical to the other two that he had gifted his sons.  _ Friendship emeralds. _

His time is up, it seems. 

_ Techno, I’m sorry… _

~

_ Ph1lza was burnt to a crisp whilst fighting Tubbo. _

~

And.

The.

World.

_ Freezes. _

~

Technoblade sees the message in world chat, and he’s in shock for a good few seconds before the meaning of the words hit him. Before the true meaning behind those yellow letters hits him hard in the gut, and he  _ screams. _

It’s the most distraught he’s ever been. Because Phil is dead, Phil’s one life has been taken away- by  _ Tubbo, _ his own brother, and he can see Dream out of the corner of his eye trying to calm him down, but it’s no use- Phil is  _ dead- _ he can’t come back.

The emerald in his pocket suddenly feels so much heavier.

He knows that Dream is in shock, too. Phil has always been kind, fatherly and an authoritative figure on the SMP- and despite the fact that Dream’s the admin of the server, technically above everyone else, he respects Phil for the man he is. To see Tubbo take his life?

Tubbo, who’s supposed to be another willing pawn in his game?

It’s not false that Dream has taken to manipulating the other people in his server, but if he has any true friends other than George and Sapnap, they’re Techno and Phil. 

And now one of them is  _ dead _ , and even though he’s an admin he can’t bring him back to life- hardcore doesn’t work that way. They learned the hard way they have a limited number of respawns, and it seems like they’re learning it again.

“Techno. Technoblade, listen to me.”

The piglin hybrid turns to him with a snarl. “Did you plan this, Dream? When you orchestrated my escape-  _ did you plan this? _ ”

“No.” Dream says firmly. He doesn’t bother explaining himself further, because there’s no time. “Technoblade, listen. You can’t do anything now; Phil is  _ gone. _ What you  _ can _ do is escape. Take revenge.”

Dream doesn’t know if it counts as manipulating, but he would rather have Technoblade go on a murder spree equipped properly rather than having Technoblade go on a murder spree with nothing but stock iron and a netherite pickaxe.

He sees the moment when Technoblade’s eyes turn steely. As if he were never mourning in the first place, Technoblade mounts Carl and speeds off into the tunnel Dream created.

Taking a deep breath, Dream readjusts his mask. 

He has a few people to talk to.

~

Ghostbur stares at the corpse of his father. 

He stares.

Where did it all go wrong?

Why did Tubbo shoot his father?

_ Why? _

And suddenly the memories start crashing back into him. All of it.  _ All of it. _

_ Betrayal- Eret- Election- Schlatt- Quackity- Exile- Technoblade- Madness- TNT, explosives, Dream, Crossbow Fireworks Tubbo Death Death Tommy Screams Tower Presidency Room Button Phil Phil Death Fighting Fireworks Death Phil  _ **_Death Death Stab me Phil, kill me, end it, my unfinished symphony, forever unfinished, MY UNFINISHED SYMPHONY-_ **

Ghostbur- no,  _ Wilbur, _ stumbles.

**_MY L’MANBURG, PHIL. MY GREAT UNFINISHED SYMPHONY, FOREVER UNFINISHED! IF I CAN’T HAVE IT NO ONE CAN, PHIL!_ **

He remembers- oh god, why now? Why now, when Phil’s dead, when Phil will never hear Wilbur forgive him for killing him? Why?

The thought snaps him back to the present, and he runs up the stairs of Phil’s house, scrambling to get beside Phil’s corpse. He sobs, clutching Phil’s closed hands and pries his fingers open, revealing an emerald.

_ Friendship Emeralds. _

He regrets losing his own, now. Wilbur’s other hand closes into a fist, and he breathes in heavily, ignoring all of the other shouts and clenching the gem so hard that it cuts into his palm. 

There’s too many things to be done. Wilbur stands up, carrying Phil’s body in his arms.

He has a few people to meet. 

~

Tommy blinks a couple of times at the message in world chat.

_ This can’t be happening. _

And yet the yellow letters glare up at him, bright and clear. Tubbo-  _ Tubbo, _ his brother, his best friend, the one who’s been with him the whole time, the one who’s always been by his side- killed their father, the one who saved him, who raised him, who  _ only had one life and it was taken by his own son. _

In Technoblade’s basement, Tommy yells as he hits the concrete walls in frustration. He doesn’t even care that Techno’s probably back already, that he can most likely hear Tommy’s screams. 

Because Phil is  _ gone. _

And Techno’s not stupid. He knows that the walls- or the ground, rather, doesn’t scream, so he mines down to the source of the noise, only to see his youngest brother with battered fists and tears streaking down his face. 

Tommy whips around and snarls. “Technoblade.”

Techno is silent.

“Did he die for you?”

Technoblade’s eyes snap up to meet Tommy’s, who’s now rambling.

“It’s not possible that- It’s not possible that it’s a coincidence, you killed Quackity and then Phil died immediately after-” Tommy chokes on his words, and Techno is still silent- because Tommy is right, isn’t he? It’s his fault. It’s his fault that Phil was under house arrest in the first place, and it’s his fault that Phil died. 

But that’s not what Tommy needs to hear.

Surprisingly, Techno pulls Tommy into a hug, and pats his back as Tommy clings onto him. Despite their past differences, the two of them only have each other.

Phil’s gone, Tubbo’s… different, and Wilbur isn’t who he used to be.

Or so they thought.

Ghostbur knocks on Techno’s spruce doors, and when he opens, there’s just a different glint in his eyes. It’s no longer the madness that used to be there, or the naivety that was characteristic of Wilbur’s ghost. This one is just like Techno’s brother.

Wilbur sets down Phil’s body slowly before meeting Techno’s eyes. 

Techno swallows the lump in his throat. “So you remember.”

Wilbur uncomfortably nods.

Techno takes Wilbur’s cold hands in his. “You  _ remember. _ ” Techno repeats, not quite believing it.

Once again, the ghost nods.

He’s corporeal enough for Techno to draw him in a hug as well, and there are tears running down Wilbur’s face as well, whispering sorry over and over again. Tommy comes in at some point, and he stands still at the sight.

“Wilbur?” Tommy nearly whispers.

“Tommy.” Wilbur chokes out. “I’m so, so sorry, I-”

Tommy barrels into the hug as well, and the three of them sink to the ground, quietly grieving their fallen father. 

~

“So what’s the plan?”

Wilbur looks up from his baked potato, surprise lining his features. “What?”

“What’s the plan?” Tommy repeats. “Come on, don’t tell me you’re going to leave Phil unavenged like that!”

Wilbur flashes Techno a wary look. “Tommy, I didn’t think you would be… eager… to take revenge against your brother.” They do not talk about how Wilbur doesn’t say  _ our brother. _   


Tommy’s expression shutters at that, but his resolve comes back- if anything, it’s even more steely than before. “Tubbo stopped being my brother the moment he fired that arrow.”

Techno stares at his food, appetite long gone. “Are you sure about this, Tommy?”

“I’m sure.”

Silence.

Techno pushes himself from the table, walking out of the house. His two brothers scramble to follow him, and they pass by Phil’s grave- which Techno  _ still can’t bear to look at, _ despite the fact that it’s already been a couple of days. Techno forges onwards, to the mountain where he hid everything that’s not in his retirement home.

Where he kept everything that he used for war. 

“Techno?” Wilbur ventures, looking almost transparent in the moonlight. 

Techno takes a deep breath, and pushes a small stone button, hidden amongst all the other stone blocks on the wall. 

The sounds of pistons reach Wilbur and Tommy’s ears, and slowly, that section of the wall lowers itself, revealing a bunker of blackstone, lined with chests and weapons. 

Wilbur and Tommy gape at the armour stand in the middle. 

Techno grins. “Welcome home, Theseus.”

~

_ For you, the world, Phil. _

Techno sharpens his sword with more force than strictly necessary. 

He once promised Phil the world. 

And, well. 

_ Those that have treated me with kindness, I will repay that kindness tenfold. And those that treat me with injustice, that use me, that hunt me down, that hurt my friends, I shall repay that injustice a thousand times over. _

Outside his window, the sun rises. Technoblade shoulders his shield- the shield that  _ Phil _ made for him. One emerald hangs from a string at his neck. The other one, along with the compass, rest in his grave.

Technoblade once promised Phil the world.

And just like Wilbur’s unfinished symphony… if he can’t have the world, then  _ no one can _ . 

No one. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. Thank you all for the support the first part got- you're all amazing :D  
> But yes. Part two :)

_Traitor. Killer. Unfilial. Murderer._

Tubbo barely registers anything. Some rational part of him knows he screwed up- he screwed up _badly_. He can hear Fundy screaming, voice raw, can distantly feel Ranboo shaking him, and Quackity’s hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort him, but…

_Traitor. Killer. Unfilial. Murderer._

Ranboo’s shaking him insistently, now. He’s speaking frantically, too fast- too fast for Tubbo to catch up with. The bow feels so heavy in his hands, and he’s clenching it tightly, the leather digging into his palms.

_Traitor. Killer. Unfilial. Murderer._

His thumbs inevitably run over the engravings on his bow. The damned enchantment that cost him everything- that cost _Phil_ his _life._

What happened to Philza never dies?

_Traitor. Killer. Unfilial. Murderer._

No. No no no no no no. This can’t be happening. There’s no way- look, Ghostbur’s going up now, Ghostbur will be able to get Philza back on his feet, there’s no way- there’s no way Phil’s dead, he’s not _dead-_

_Traitor. Killer. Unfilial. Murderer._

Ghostbur stumbles. Why is he stumbling? He has no reason to stumble. There are tears on Ghostbur’s face now- is he going to forget? Can Tubbo forget? 

Tubbo wants to forget. The world isn’t going to let him.

_Traitor. Killer. Unfilial. Murderer._

They whisper. They whisper, over and over, the only things that Tubbo can hear. He can’t hear Tubbo, nor Fundy, nor Ranboo. None of them. The voices talk, and they whisper cruel things.

_Traitor. Killer. Unfilial. Murderer._

His eyes are still locked onto Phil’s body, and the limp, feathery wings behind Phil. Ghostbur obstructs his view, but he can still see the emerald that his father- that _Phil_ treasured.

_Traitor. Killer. Unfilial. Murderer._

This is his fate, isn’t it? Tubbo lets out a crazed laugh, ignoring how Ghostbur jerks and gathers Phil’s body in his arms, running away to god-knows-where. He also ignores how Ranboo’s eyes snap to him, looking absolutely terrified.

He can’t really bring himself to care, anyway.

_Traitor. Killer. Unfilial. Murderer._

Because it’s his fate for his family to leave him alone. First, the orphanage, burnt down, and he and Tommy ran away- then Wilbur, blowing up the nation, and dying to their- _his_ father’s sword. Then Techno, damaging L’Manburg further with withers. Then Tommy, unwilling to see that L’Manburg is more important than those _stupid_ discs. Now Phil.

_Traitor. Killer. Unfilial. Murderer._

No. It’s his fault. He shot the arrow. The others are not, but this one is his fault.

_Traitor. Killer. Unfilial. Murderer._

Philza was burnt to a crisp whilst fighting Tubbo.

_Traitor. Killer. Unfilial. Murderer._

Philza was burnt to a crisp whilst fighting _Tubbo._

_Traitor. Killer. Unfilial. Murderer._

Philza was burnt to a crisp whilst fighting **_Tubbo._ **

_Traitor. Killer. Unfilial. Murderer. Traitor. Killer. Unfilial. Murderer. Traitor Killer Unfilial Murderer Traitor Killer Unfilial Murderer Traitor Killer_ **_Unfilial Murderer TRAITOR KILLER UNFILIAL MURDERER-_ **

~

This did not go to plan. 

Fundy is still screaming.

Fundy knows that he doesn’t have the right to do so. 

_You’re fucking DEAD to me, Fundy!_

He screams anyway.

_This did not go to plan._

He can see nothing but the flaming arc of the arrow that Tubbo recklessly fired, and the crumpling body of his grandfather.

The brown dye in his pocket stains his hand. His voice is hoarse, and he can hear Ranboo muttering quickly, trying to get him to calm down.

“The president is a lost cause.” Ranboo mutters. “Please, Fundy. Please. We can’t do anything now- Technoblade’s sure to come back to revenge-”

The mention of the warrior makes Fundy pause and pale. Phil and Technoblade were close- closer than friends, no matter how much Technoblade denied their father-son relationship- oh gods, what were they going to do now? L’Manburg-

_Please, the voices- I’ve been holding them back. They demand blood- please, don’t make me kill you all. Please._

They really fucked up this time, didn’t they?

“We have to prepare.” Quackity’s here now, freshly back from respawn, and he rambles on and on despite the fact that he’s on his last life. “Technoblade has always hated L’Manburg- execution certainly didn’t help that opinion, and now we’ve gone and killed Philza, there’s no way he’s not going to unleash everything he has on us- there’s _no way-_ ”

_When government helps the people? Pog. When it fails to help the people, which it has done multiple times on this server? Not pog._

Fundy shoves that thought aside and very carefully does not look at Phil’s burning house, set aflame by that single arrow. He ignores how the creaking of wood sounds so much like a coffin closing, cutting off the light from the last chapter of Philza Minecraft’s story.

(In the depths of his mind, a traitorous voice whispers in his head… that maybe Wilbur Soot had made a mistake when he founded this nation. That maybe… Dream was right. _Phil_ was right.)

~

 _I think the reason why it’s so hard for me to be non-violent… is because I hear voices, Phil. They’re incessant, always there, and they- they demand_ **_blood_ ** _, Phil. But I’ve been holding them back. As much as I can, anyway._

It’s been a rough two weeks ever since Philza Minecraft died.

Technoblade’s fingers trail over the bumps in each wither skull, gathered from hours upon hours of fighting in that damned nether fortress, patient as more and more spawned and he gathered one for every twenty he fought. 

One hundred and sixty-eight wither skulls.

He’d fought over three thousand wither skeletons for revenge. He would get it. He would spawn _all fifty-six withers_ even if it _killed_ him.

L’Manburg had taken too much from them.

The voices seemed to agree, thundering in his head in a near unison of “Blood for the Blood God”, with only the occasional nonsensical sentence or letter mixed in.

The voices in his head only served to intensify his bloodlust. Technoblade didn’t even bother pushing it down anymore, fixating on destroying L’Manburg.

Perhaps that’s why he doesn’t notice Dream until he’s at the door of his cottage again, when the man makes himself known, the white porcelain mask glinting in the moonlight.

Techno inclines his head ever so slightly, not at all bothered by the fact that Dream had somehow found his so-called “retirement” home. “So.”

“So.” Dream agrees, unspoken words floating in between them. Years of being each others’ rivals heightened their perception of each other, and Technoblade finds so many nuances in his speech that he puts together a general meaning of Dream’s arrival.

The mask tilts. “When?”

Technoblade hums, leaning against the spruce doors. “A week at the most, perhaps. I- We’re all restless.”

Dream nods. “And Ghostbur?”

“Wilbur.” Techno mutters. “He remembers.”

Dream frowns, the curve of his mouth visible even under his mask. “That shouldn’t be possible.”

The piglin hybrid shrugs helplessly. “We don’t know how, either. We think it may be because of- because of Phil’s-”

Techno chokes on his words, and Dream doesn’t push, only following the other warrior’s glance to the tombstone so close to his house.

Regret fills Dream. Because maybe, just maybe, if he’d done something sooner- maybe Phil’s death could’ve been prevented.

“Do you think- he’ll come back?” Techno whispers. Inside his house, Wilbur listens in on the conversation, invisible and floating above their heads.

Dream stares at the stone. “Perhaps. I wouldn’t say Phil’s business is exactly… finished.”

“Is that good?”

Dream doesn’t answer.

They fall into silence once more. 

“Say… what would he remember?” Techno murmurs. “Wilbur didn’t remember any sad memories. What do you think Phil…”

Dream shrugged. “Wilbur wasn’t exactly… sane, when he died. I think his memories were much more fragmented, and so he only remembers a single-” Dream gesticulates a bit wildly, before settling on “-concept, you know? Maybe… I don’t know, I don’t believe that Phil won’t forget anything, but his memories will probably be more stable.”

“Stable… you say.”

“...Yeah.”

More silence stretches between them. They speak at the same time, broach the topic before the other can get to it.

“Tommy.”

Dream instantly winces, and Techno turns with a little glare in his eye.

“I will… admit.” Dream says slowly. “That I might’ve been… a little… terrible.”

There are seconds of suffocating silence, in which Dream suddenly begins to fear for his life, despite the shaky truce they’ve established in their mutual goal of destroying L’Manburg.

Then Techno snorts. “Yeah.”

Dream relaxes by an inch, though he’s still wary.

“I can’t speak on behalf of Tommy. But- I won’t kill you. Yet. I would prefer if you stay _very far away_ from my family, once this is all over, though.”

Dream exhales. “Deal.”

Techno cracks a grin. “So I’ve heard you have some explosives you can spare.”

Dream grins back, with just as much teeth. “Oh. Definitely.”

~

 _Don’t you see history repeating itself here? Do you think Schlatt was the cause of all your problems? NO! It was_ **_government!_ ** _Power corrupts!_

Ranboo was not there on November the Sixteenth.

The infamous day when Wilbur Soot, founder of the very nation he now stands on, blew the country until it was nothing but a smoking crater.

The day when Technoblade spawned two withers, as if L’Manburg hadn’t suffered enough- and when Technoblade made his stance clear.

But he’s heard all about the speeches that Technoblade gave, as the rest of L’Manburg’s citizens stared at him with horror in his eyes.

He’s heard it, word for word, in the past week, as Tubbo’s health steadily declined, turning more and more into Schlatt than Ranboo would like.

They’ve told him all about it.

_Let me tell you a story, Tommy. A story of a man called Theseus._

Ranboo knows this story. He’s heard it- it’s a legend, it’s a myth, and most importantly… It’s a warning. 

_His country- well, his city-state, technically, was in danger. And he sent himself forward into enemy lines. He slayed the Minotaur and saved his city. Do you know what they did to him, Tommy? They exiled him. He died in disgrace._

It’s a warning to those that want to be heroes. But despite this, Ranboo would still like to be a hero. To be one that helps the good side.

Looking at the burning home, though, and doing nothing as the fire spreads two or three blocks away from the borders of Philza’s home… he doesn’t know whether or not he should stay in L’Manburg.

Eventually, some of the other citizens put out the fire, and Ranboo continues to try to calm Fundy and Tubbo down. Tubbo is a lost cause, and Fundy is beside himself with grief, but Ranboo tries nonetheless. 

At least Quackity is there.

(But is he?)

(Ranboo willfully ignores the cold look in Quackity’s eyes as soon as he’s done the panicked rambling from before, when he was fresh out of respawn. He ignores how Quackity is now yelling at the citizens of L’Manburg, telling them to prepare for war.)

Ranboo stares over at the half-flooded L’Manburg, built on a lake, once a crater. His reflection glares right back at him.

One green, one red.

One black, one white.

(One right, one wrong.)

(But which is which?)

His fingers touch the surface of the water, and the ripples blur the line.

A shadow looms over him, and he flinches as a cold hand grabs his shoulder. “We don’t have time for gazing, Ranboo.” Quackity snaps at him. “Get to work. We’ll need to be ready for Technoblade.”

 _And why, exactly?_ Ranboo thinks bitterly to himself, staring at L’Manburg. It is still daytime, and the smoke has cleared, but L’Manburg suddenly looks all the more terrible. Evil, even. He can barely make out the outline of a couple more citizens- Purpled, Niki, even _Eret_ is here. 

None of them look happy. In fact, all of them are horrified. 

When it’s time for everyone to return to their homes, Ranboo is deep in thought. 

In the middle of the night, an enderman hybrid speeds off into the north.

~

_You’re president of nothing! Your country is gone!_

_Quite frankly, all of you-_ **_all of you_ ** _, have yet to prove to me that you’re worthy of my loyalty._

_You’re becoming the next Schlatt, Tubbo! That’s what this is!_

_MY L’MANBURG, PHIL. MY UNFINISHED SYMPHONY, FOREVER UNFINISHED! IF I CAN’T HAVE IT NO ONE CAN, PHIL!_

_It was_ _~~never~~ _ _meant to be!_

_There was a special place, yes, but- it’s not there anymore._

_There’s no Pogtopia won, there’s no L’Manburg won-_ **_I_ ** _won._

**_Give in._ **

_No._

**_Is there a difference, now? Everyone has left you. There’s no one by your side. And you killed your father._ **

_SHUT UP!_

**_There was never a curse plaguing the presidents of L’Manburg, Tubbo… each of you caved to your own greed. No one else was at fault._ **

_No…_

**_All of this is your fault. You cannot change the truth._ **

“-ubbo? Tubbo, please, we need to move. It’s nearly night.”

**_This is all your fault._ **

~

“State your purpose.”

Ranboo freezes at the cold voice that cuts through the air. Instinctively, he’s sure that there are arrows trained on him, and he clears his throat, dropping his bag of supplies and raising his hands up. “I’m Ranboo. I’m here to defect from L’Manburg.”

An arrow whistles right beside him, slicing through the air and landing with a dull thunk on a tree behind him. He shudders, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before speaking again. “I’m serious.”

Two figures reveal themselves, and though their sword and axe are lowered, Ranboo knows better than to relax. Because that’s _Dream_ and _Technoblade,_ the two most dangerous people on the server. 

“Defect, you say.” Technoblade drawls, and Ranboo shrinks, suddenly very much regretting joining the butcher army. 

Technoblade’s hand clenches on the hilt of his sword. This hybrid was a part of the butcher army. He did nothing as Phil died- as Phil was _shot at_ by Tubbo-

“Wait, Techno.” Dream puts a grounding hand on Techno’s shoulder. “Let him talk.”

Ranboo still hasn’t moved. 

“Techno.”

“ _Fine._ ” Technoblade grits out, sheathing his sword. “But if the voices give me _any_ reason not to trust him, he’s dead.”

Surprisingly, the voices were largely in favour of Ranboo. Technoblade huffed as Dream studied the shivering hybrid, before quickly clearing away the snow at Ranboo’s feet.

The hybrid looked up at him with surprise.

Dream shrugged. “Figured snow is water, and- well, water kinda sucks for you guys.”

Ranboo nodded. “I… I came, because, well… I just needed to leave L’Manburg.”

“So we’re your last resort.”

“No!” Ranboo hurried to clarify. “I meant… well, Tubbo’s… not well. And Fundy is grieving. L’Manburg is not- I don’t think what L’Manburg did to you was _right,_ Technoblade.”

“Took you long enough.”

That’s a new voice. Ranboo spins around and there’s Ghostbur- except that _isn’t_ Ghostbur, because that’s not the same naivety in his eyes-

“Wilbur?” Ranboo guessed.

The ghost narrowed his eyes and nodded. “He’s perceptive.”

“That doesn't mean-” Techno blusters.

“Techno.”

That’s _another_ new voice, and Ranboo’s jaw drops at the face of a very familiar blonde with blue eyes.

“ _Tommy?_ You’re _alive?_ ” Ranboo demanded.

Tommy winced. “Didn’t exactly leave Logsteadshire in the best condition… but yeah.” Tommy glances at Dream, and some kind of understanding passes between the two of them before he skillfully skirts the topic. “But yeah. Techno, _please._ I trust him.”

And suddenly, Ranboo is very thankful that he kept a correspondence with Tommy during his exile.

There is silence. 

Too long. Ranboo’s heart thunders in his ears, and he prepares to flee, when-

“Fine.”

He silently cheers to himself as the others lead him to their small base. Five fighters enter Technoblade’s cabin, and begin to plan.

_Onto a new day._

_A new plot._

_To destroy L’Manburg._

~

There is no remorse as the five of them descend upon L’Manburg in a storm of fury. Some are more readily shedding blood- Techno and Dream spare no mercy and blow up every block of TNT, but none of them unleash the withers. Yet.

After all, the grand finale of a symphony must be saved until the end.

They wreak havoc. They kill, and bring so many people down to two lives, and even more to one. Few are spared- Tommy’s blade freezes at Fundy’s neck, and Wilbur helps Niki up. 

But they are few.

And Technoblade stands atop a cliff, surveying the damage they’ve done. The citizens of L’Manburg stare up at him with terrified eyes, and Tubbo reveals himself.

He looks so _broken_ that Techno almost pauses. But Phil’s body immediately flashes in his mind, and he steels himself once more.

(He ignores how Tubbo so clearly stews and wastes away in his own guilt, how he tries to make eye contact with a stoic Tommy and how he tries to whisper apologies. Tubbo killed Phil, and there’s no changing that.)

“You know, once, we fought tyranny together. We managed to free L’Manburg from Schlatt, but you immediately took his place. I let it slide. As I said, you’re all free to make your own mistakes.”

Techno glares at the crowd. “But there are only so many mistakes you can make before you hurt those that _didn’t_ make mistakes.”

Tubbo flinches. Techno ignores it. “I don’t need to tell you all any stories like last time. Because this one, all of you _know._ You all know how good of a person Phil was, and you _know_ that he didn’t deserve this death. I told you- you’re free to make your own mistakes. BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU CAN HURT OTHERS BY MAKING THEM!”

At Techno’s roar, _everyone_ flinches. 

The warrior breathes heavily. Behind him, the soul sand starts taking formation.

(Tommy hesitates.)

(And he shoves the hesitation down.)

(He ignores Tubbo’s silent pleas in his peripheral vision.)

From the corner of his eye, Dream nods ever so slightly, and Techno turns, his red cape sweeping out, surveying the sand. The skulls are in his hand, and he can see some in Wilbur and Tommy’s hands, too.

How fitting, to end a nation by _both_ of its’ founders’ hands.

How fitting, indeed.

“Wilbur was right.” Techno said, continuing, even with his back turned. “Wilbur was right, when he said that there _was_ a special place.”

Suddenly, the crazed scribblings on the half-destroyed walls are so much clearer to Technoblade, now that he repeats the lyrics of the anthem. 

With a jolt, Techno realizes he’s standing where Wilbur did, more than a month ago.

(It’s not important, and he pushes the thought down, into the pit of his stomach where all the emotions that are not fit for revenge simmer.)

The voices are louder, now. Even louder than when he murdered with his firework launcher, as he drew so much _blood._

They demand revenge. They demand justice for Phil.

Technoblade continues. 

“There _was_ a special place, and I suppose you _could_ emancipate the brutality. But it’s not there anymore.”

The fires crackle, the only thing filling the deep void of silence. A few citizens warily eye the soul sand behind Technoblade. 

Techno breathes out. “There’s a _reason_ why the anthem can’t be completed without the names.”

Abruptly, Techno turns back. “Once Wilbur, Tommy and Tubbo fell from grace, the very ideals L’Manburg was founded on disappeared. Vanished. Shattered. It’s no longer there.” There are gasps from his audience as he clearly shows what he has been holding this whole time.

“You rebuilt this nation after two withers.”

All three of the brothers’ knuckles are white.

“I wonder how you would deal with fifty-four more than that.”

There are shouts and screams from the crowd as everyone realizes what they’re doing. So many cries, begs and _pleads_ for them to not do it. 

Techno’s last line thunders.

“THOSE THAT HAVE TREATED ME WITH KINDNESS, I WILL REPAY THAT KINDNESS TENFOLD. BUT THOSE THAT HAVE BETRAYED, ME, USED ME, THAT HAVE HURT MY FRIENDS, THAT HAVE TREATED ME WITH INJUSTICE- I WILL REPAY THAT INJUSTICE A **_THOUSAND TIMES OVER._ **”

He’d imagined the screech of the withers. The explosions as their shields dropped, and they began to wreak even more havoc. He’d imagined leaping with his recovered trident to a nearby roof, and cackling as the chaos unfolded, as L’Manburg died a third time.

Never in his life had he imagined the singular voice that cut through the air.

“What are you doing.”

The. 

World. 

_Freezes._

Three brothers speak in unison, all disbelieving.

“Phil?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? Leaving a cliffhanger at the end of a fic I don't know if I'll continue?  
> It's more likely than you think o.o


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. This is multi-chapter now.  
> Gonna be honest I have no idea where this is going, but we'll see.
> 
> Also i wrote a song please listen to it it's half-decent I promise:  
> https://youtu.be/-7oiYoajJ5w  
> I also wrote an Arctic Anarchists song, same channel
> 
> But anyway here we go

“What are you doing.” The figure repeats, and Techno  _ knows _ that it’s Phil standing behind them, translucent wings spread out and a stern tone in his voice.

But he can’t seem to turn back to Phil. He can’t face him.

(He can’t see the disappointment in Phil’s eyes when he finds out who he’s become.  _ What _ he’s become.)

His voice sounds choked, even to his own ears. A far cry from his usual, monotone drawls. “Phil.”

“Answer my question, Techno.”

The crackle of fires become background white noise. The voices roar in his head, half surprised, half still chanting for blood to be spilled. 

Wilbur freezes when his father’s gaze lands on him, instead. Techno still hasn’t turned around, looking at the dark sky, breathing hard. L’Manburg doesn’t dare move, much less make a single sound. 

“Wil.”

“Phil, I-”

“Wil, please. Not again.”

A horrified look crosses over Wilbur’s face.  _ He remembers. _

There is a bit of desperation in Phil’s voice, now. He isn’t stupid. Phil can see the formation of the soul sand, and he can clearly see the excess of Wither skulls in their hands- nearly a stack each. If the withers are unleashed, there will be more death and destruction than there has ever been on this server. 

“Wil. I- you fought hard, Wil. You fought to get this land back- L’Manburg is  _ everything _ to you, Wil. Why are you so focused on destroying it?”

“I-” If possible, Wilbur looks even paler. “I- Phil,  _ you’re _ everything to me. This family is everything to me- and I know, I  _ know _ that in some twisted way I chose L’Manburg last time, but Phil I promise that wasn’t me, I’m sorry-”

“ _ Wil. _ ”

Somehow, that one word makes  _ everything _ worse.

Techno refuses to turn around. As a consequence, the citizens of L’Manburg see the tear that tracks down his face. 

Wilbur stutters for a bit, but he continues on nevertheless. “No, Phil, I promise, it isn’t because it’s an unfinished symphony anymore, it’s been  _ finished _ , and we need to  _ end _ it for you, Phil, please-”

“What do you mean, for me?” 

The worst part is that Phil sounds genuinely confused. 

Tommy finds a voice, now. “Phil? You- what do you mean? Revenge, of course, why-”

Phil turns around, and the wings pass through the walls briefly, all the more of a painful reminder that he’s gone. “What do you mean, revenge? Tommy, am I missing something here?”

Tommy looks white. Techno has frozen, and he’s clutching the wither skulls tight enough so that one of them is cracking. 

The reactions of L’Manburg vary.

Tubbo’s entire facade crumbles to dust, and he sinks to his knees, clutching on his own tattered suit as he sobs. Fundy looks the same as Tommy, frozen, hand still pressing on the cut on his neck. Quackity’s eyes just narrow further, and Niki’s hand is covering her mouth, tears spilling over. Eret, as defeated as he looks, snaps to attention at the sentence. Ranboo looks even more lost than he ever has.

For some reasons, the reactions fill Techno with an indescribable rage. How  _ dare _ they- how  _ dare _ they pretend like they care. 

“Techno.”

He breathes in. The voices are getting louder. 

Techno isn’t sure whether or not he wants to push them down any longer.

He walks slowly over to the soul sand. Phil looks like he has half a mind to pull out his sword, but what’s undoubtedly the reminder of Wilbur’s death flashes through his eyes, and he hesitates. 

Too late.

The wither skulls are heavy in Techno’s hand as it hovers over the soul sand. 

“They said something, didn’t they?” Techno whispered. “Wilbur and Eret. They had a saying.”

Phil’s eyes widen, and he  _ moves _ , but he’s too late-

“It was never meant to be.”

He drops the wither skulls. There is a mini explosion as the wither spawns, and the skulls go flying out of Technoblade’s hands. Some of them land on the soul sand, spawning even more, though half of them are strewn across the floor. The ones in Wilbur and Tommy’s hands are unused.

(Here’s a thought.)

(Eret says the line with no remorse as he betrays L’Manburg and leads them all to their death. There is no hesitation as he presses the button, and he does not regret his decision until much, much later.)

There are only five or so withers that spawn. L’Manburg leaps into action- battered and bruised, but still not willing to give up. Technoblade doesn’t even find a will in himself to stop them from killing the withers. There is destruction, but not nearly as much as before.

Nothing will stop them from rebuilding, he thinks bitterly.

(Here’s a thought.)

(Wilbur says the line with absolute conviction, but it is not him that is saying it. The Wilbur that says it is the one that went insane, and there is hesitation, though he presses the button anyway. He regrets his decision almost immediately after, and begs Phil to give him release.)

Tommy shoots one that comes too close to the ledge they’re on, sending it reeling back and screeching, deciding to focus on some other targets instead. The houses are blown up, and water flows freely, but it isn’t, all in all, that much.

There are fewer death messages than Technoblade thought. Actually, he doesn’t even think that anyone has permadied yet. He doesn’t know whether or not he should be relieved or angry.

(Here’s a thought.)

(Technoblade says the line with regret already seeping from his words, and resignation that if L’Manburg does not suffer, he will never be able to rest. He drops the skulls, letting gravity perform the action instead of slamming them down with certainty. He allows the wind to carry the other skulls, instead of walking over to the other soul sand and putting those wither skulls down.)

(How funny it is, to have the only warrior, the Blood God, the  _ anarchist, _ be the most reluctant out of the three of them to end a nation.)

It takes so long.

The citizens are shouting and screaming. There are a couple of deaths. The brothers do nothing to help.

And unlike the first time, Philza Minecraft does not, either.

Phil stands still, searching his mind for the blanks in his memory. What did his sons mean when they said “for him”?

Technoblade stares listlessly at the chaos.

The voices revel in the blood. 

He does not.

He watches impassively as the last wither falls. 

He watches impassively as most of the citizens pass out due to exhaustion, and watches as the swords fall from their grasp.

He watches as they all but surrender, only a few of them still on guard.

So many of them are tired.

“Techno.”

Phil’s talking again. Techno still can’t bring himself to look at him in the eye.

Philza has different ideas, and floats in front of him, forcing him to make eye contact. “Techno. It’s not worth it. No matter what they’ve done-  _ Techno. _ ”

The piglin hybrid’s fists clench. “Anarchy, Phil. That’s what I stand for.”

“Techno. You don’t need to lie to yourself.” Phil says, and that’s his stern tone, now. “I know this is for revenge. You don’t- just give up the pretense of anarchy, Techno."

“It’s not a pretense-”

“It is-”

“There should be no government-”

“Perhaps, but they can learn to do better-”

“It’s not just personal-”

“You know it is-”

The argument continues. Techno rarely argues with Phil, but when they do, it’s explosive, and none of them back down for a very, very long time. Everyone stares, wide-eyed, at the interaction that ultimately culminates in Techno yelling.

“HE’S NOT MY BROTHER!”

It doesn’t take a genius to know that he’s talking about Tubbo. The president in question seems to sink into himself even further. 

(Tommy flinches, stopping himself from reaching out.)

Phil looks disappointed. Techno breathes heavily.

_ Does he really not remember?  _

It’s too much.

Techno’s cape sweeps out, and he runs out, through the tunnel that leads to the other side of the mountain. He hops onto Carl, and speeds off, not looking back.

Tommy runs after Techno, and Dream vanishes. That leaves Ranboo, Wilbur and Phil.

Wilbur clears his throat. Instantly, all eyes are on him.

“We’re not done with you guys.” Wilbur says, scathingly. “Perhaps Phil is right. Perhaps we don’t need to go so far. But  _ Tubbo. _ ” He says his name with such venom that Tubbo flinches involuntarily. “You will never be forgiven.”

Ranboo takes that as his cue to leave, and Wilbur turns around. At the mouth of the door, he sets a torch aflame and drops it, letting the flames catch on the soul sand, turning it a hauntingly beautiful blue. 

The wither skulls burn.

Phil’s ghost vanishes in the smoke.

~

There was no death on January 16th.

There was no one whose third life was taken. There was no one that would never breathe, would never be seen again.

There were many who lost some, and are now living dangerously close on the edge. Those who should’ve been non-belligerents- Hbomb, Ponk, Punz.

There are many who are now standing at two lives. Fundy has always been, and he’s lucky that Tommy saw it fit to spare him- but others were brought down, that shouldn’t have been, that are now more wary because of a single stray arrow- Connor, Eret, Puffy.

And there are very, very few that still have all three. Niki is the only one from L’Manburg’s side that still stands at three. 

The day has been hard, in an understatement. But for all the TNT that Dream and Technoblade set off, and the five withers that had wreaked havoc on the land- it was nothing at all like the doomsday everyone was expecting.

L’Manburg was once more a smoking crater. But it was nothing worse than what happened on November 16th.

They’ll manage.

And thus, the second rebuilding era of L’Manburg began.

~

Techno rides through the snow, pushing Carl faster and faster. It isn’t until the voices are screaming at him does he realize how fast, exactly, he’s pushing his steed, and he slows down, muttering apologies to the horse. 

He blinks back the tears, telling himself it’s the cold wind that stings his eyes.

Carl has slowed down to a trot, but the horse continues to plough through the snow. When Techno finally reaches his home, he makes sure to hide Carl and give him some extra wheat before making his way back to the cabin. 

He passes the grave.

Techno pushes through, the snow falling heavier and slowly covering the tombstone. He places a torch on top, hoping it will keep the snow from fully covering it. Technoblade then trudges the rest of the way to the cabin, and he walks in.

Then it hits him, what he’s done.

What he failed to do.

The voices sense his thought process, and they’re screaming at him, telling him that it isn’t enough, that Phil is still unavenged, that they haven’t suffered enough-

For the first time, Technoblade breathes in and  _ squashes _ those thoughts down.

How could he have been so stupid? Phil wouldn’t want him to take revenge. He wouldn’t want people to die because of him. In the end, Technoblade was being selfish. He was doing this just for his own kind of sick satisfaction. 

The realization brings him to tears again, and he clutches at his emerald even harder. The voices are loud-  _ too loud- _

“Techno?”

That’s Wil. That’s Wil, and Tommy is behind him, and he can see the ghostly version of his frie- his father, floating behind them, concern evident on his face. 

The door is open. He can’t bring himself to care.

It’s Wilbur that sinks down to him first. But he’s unable to provide the comfort that Techno craves, and his arms are but cold weights on his shoulders. 

To Techno’s surprise, Tommy’s arms envelop him.

He clutches onto his brother. Tommy’s never been one to give out too many hugs, always deeming that it was a show of weakness. Then again, neither was Technoblade one to break down often. 

They’ll take their chances at comfort where they can get them. 

For a small eternity, it’s the three brothers. Nothing but them, as they sink to the floor, all coming to terms with the fact that their revenge will most likely have to wait.

It feels like forever before Techno is able to get his breaths under control, and Wilbur’s blue stops filling, and Tommy’s tears stop falling. At that point, Wilbur is turning around to face Phil.

He blanches when he recognizes the confusion in Phil’s eyes.

(The confusion that was in his own when he hadn’t remembered.)

“Phil?” Wilbur asks tentatively.

“Wil? Wilbur, what’s going on?”

Technoblade freezes. While the first Phil seemed to have lost memories of his death, this one talks to Wilbur without guilt weighing down on him. 

_ But that doesn’t make sense. He clearly remembered killing Wilbur when we were in L’Manburg. _

And yet, now, Phil speaks as if it never happened.

The voices have risen again, and confusion reigns in his mind. Tommy looks similarly confused. “Phil? Are you alright?”

“Well, I seem to be a ghost.” Phil comments dryly. “Nevermind I don’t know how I became one. But why is Techno breaking down like he’s twelve? And why do you all look so guilty?”

Techno and Wilbur exchange a look.

“Phil…” Wilbur starts tentatively. “How much do you remember?”

Silence. 

Phil frowns. “Not much.” His ghostly wings flutter lightly behind him, feathers translucent as he continues. “Raising you all, then you guys leaving, flying over to… somewhere. But then it’s a blank, and then… then I’m helping Techno move up here? And then-” Phil’s eyes widen, and his hands move to check his inventory. “Where’s the emerald? Where’s the compass?”

Techno swallows dryly. “We… buried them.”

Phil relaxes slightly upon hearing that no one else got the compass.

(He doesn’t know how wrong he is.)

“Would you… like it back?” Techno asks quietly.

Phil nods.

It’s hard work to dig out the coffin again, and even harder work to avoid looking at Phil’s body and take the compass and emerald, but the joy on Phil’s face when he gets them back is worth it.

After all, Techno once made a promise.

_ For you, the world, Phil. _

~

Let me tell you a story, dear readers. 

Now, you shouldn’t know this story. After all, in your own reality… in the story you know, the father lives. The father remembers, somehow, to bring a bucket of water, and he survives being shot at by his son.

But you know part of the story, now. 

Let me go on.

Have you heard that the nation that calls itself L’Manburg pardoned the Arctic Anarchists for their crimes? That the president decided that they were not at fault for wanting revenge for someone they all treasured so dearly?

It was not a popular decision. The young president quickly fell out of favour. The butcher army disbanded, though it’s said that the lone one by the name of Quackity refuses, and he still goes on to search for Technoblade and kill him. 

Then there’s the masked one. The masked one, having been the puppeteer for so long, admits his mistakes. He locks himself in a prison. The engineer that he asked to build the prison is surprised, but respects his wishes.

There is a month, during which none of the SMP hears from Dream. 

On February 16th, Dream is released from Pandora’s Vault, a changed man. There are two others that are waiting for him- Sapnap and George. Once, they were an inseparable trio- and once more, they are together. 

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

During another peaceful month, L’Manburg rebuilt itself. In your universe- in your  _ story _ , L’Manburg’s doomsday was much more destructive. In your universe, the citizens could not find it in themselves to rebuild the nation they once called home. 

Well, this is not that story.

Have you heard that on the 6th of February, there was another election? That unlike the disastrous previous one, this one went civilly and fairly?

The young president did not bother running again. He’d fallen out of favour of the people, and he’d dragged the country down. He knew that none of the citizens saw him as the Tubbo he used to be. 

Fundy runs again, though he does not expect to win. 

Niki runs again, though she does not expect to win.

Ranboo runs, though he does not expect to win.

Especially after he defected.

But he wins. The country deems him to be a fit president, and on February 10th, Ranboo is formally inaugurated as the president of L’Manburg. 

Tubbo himself announces his victory, and congratulates him with a little bitter smile. 

Ranboo is kinder than Schlatt was.

Ranboo does not exile Tubbo. He allows him to stay within the L’Manburg walls, and everyone is happy. After all, Tubbo has already done so much for the country. It won’t do to make him leave. 

Ranboo then formally annuls the exile of Tommy, even though he does not expect the teen to come back to L’Manburg. Not after what it has done to their family. 

And the enderman hybrid leads L’Manburg into an era of peace, where none of the rebuilt buildings are destroyed, and where the citizens are happy once more. Just like before, there is bread baking, laughter filling the streets, and the nation is alive. 

They decide that there are no walls needed.

Some whisper and say that Ranboo is the best president L’Manburg has ever had, and he should’ve been the one to take office from the start. 

But everyone seems to forget that Wilbur, Schlatt and Tubbo governed the country through its roughest times. 

That Ranboo is lucky enough to not need to make the terrible decisions Tubbo was forced to make. 

That Ranboo is lucky enough to not need to lead a nation through war. 

But when has life been fair?

Have you heard of the family that dwells in the north?

For a month, they do nothing but heal. A warrior, a musician, a child, and a father. None of them leave the cabin. After all, there’s no need.

They tell themselves they need time, that they’re trying to heal.

They all know they’re lying to themselves.

Because all they’re doing is pushing away the problems.

On the 16th of February, the one called Tommy resolutely stands up at the table and declares that they have to go back to L’Manburg at some point. Surprisingly, there isn’t much fight from the rest of the family- Techno half heartedly agrees, Wilbur nods, and Phil sighs, but affirms that yes, they must get closure.

If not for themselves, then for the rest of the world. 

They’ve heard news, of course. As busy as Ranboo is, as president, he keeps on visiting, and brings them news all the time. 

Every time, Ranboo extends an invitation for them to come to see L’Manburg. Every time, they decline. 

But they’ve heard of Tubbo stepping down.

They’ve heard of Ranboo stepping up.

They’ve heard of Dream change. 

And they’ve heard of a nation that’s alive once more. 

And so, on the dawn of the 17th of February, a broken family sets on the road. They leave without the one called Phil- Phil had vanished, telling them he’d meet them at L’Manburg. 

None of them deem it too suspicious. After all, Ghostbur would disappear for short periods of time as well. 

War and destruction are now in the past. Technoblade knows this, and he clenches the reins tightly as the bright flag of L’Manburg comes into view. 

He doubts that they’re ready.

But he also doubts that they’ll ever be ready.

And so, with a deep breath, the three brothers ride their horses through the proud gate of L’Manburg, ready to confront their own demons. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> o.o


	4. Alternate Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concept for this alt ending is taken from a fic in the MDZS fandom- scatter and sunder, by silversshadow.
> 
> Guilty confession time! I know I promised that this will be multi-chapter, but like,,, I realized that really, what I love writing is niche AUs and things that leave more of an impact rather than just angst. So... really sorry :/
> 
> If anyone wants to write a sequel to the first ending, please, feel free. I just don't want to continue something and end up ruining this story, so yeahh...
> 
> As an apology, have a 5k-word alternate ending.
> 
> ...also consider listening to my rendition of L'Manburg anthem?  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QEwdqfXLfjk

“What are you doing?”

Technoblade does not turn around. _Cannot_ turn around. 

There is an uncomfortable, long- _terribly_ long pause. No one speaks. No one moves. Wilbur and Tommy are just as frozen as Technoblade, Dream and Ranboo are- Tubbo looks like he’s seen a ghost, which, in all fairness, he has- and L’Manburg waits with bated breath, wondering what will happen.

The unspoken question is loud in the air.

_Will Phil be able to stop the Blood God?_

But then, out of nowhere-

“Uh-huh. Uh-huh, so- where, exactly, are you, now?”

Tommy blinks in confusion. Techno’s grip on the skulls slackens just a bit, and everyone wonders at the question that seemingly came out of nowhere.

Except for Wilbur. Because _Wilbur remembers._

More silence. And Wilbur _knows_ what’s coming next-

“In L’Manburg, you said.”

 _This isn’t L’Manburg._ Wilbur wants to scream. _This isn’t the place that I founded for ideals of freedom. This isn’t the nation that I built from nothing for my family._

“Wilbur?” Tommy asks, shaken. “Wilbur, what’s going on?”

Wilbur continues to replay the final conversation he had with his father in his mind. He can’t get it out of his head.

_Do you know what this button is?_

“Uh-huh. I do.”

And now, very faintly- they can hear it. Just a whisper, mistaken for the wind had they not listened for it- the other side of the conversation of November 16th.

 _I was just saying, making a point- it was poignant, that there_ **_was_ ** _a special place- but it’s not there anymore._

“It is there.” Phil- Ghost Phil? Memory Phil?- continues on, unaware of the growing distress from everyone. And this line- this sentence _always_ hurts Wilbur- “You’ve just won it back, Wil.”

And then Phil blanches, and those that are listening can _hear_ crazed Wilbur’s shout, as he _screams_ everything, admits everything.

 _PHIL- I’M ALWAYS_ **_SO_ ** _CLOSE TO PRESSING THIS BUTTON. I HAVE BEEN HERE- LIKE SEVEN OR EIGHT TIMES-_

And there’s a pause, and now Wilbur has sunk to his knees, tears streaming down his face as he’s forced to listen to what kind of monster he was.

_Phil- I have been here so many times… they’re fighting- they’re fighting._

Pause.

“And you want to just blow it all up.”

And now, Technoblade turns around, ever so slowly, to stare at the ghostly version of his father.

_I do, I think… I do._

Tommy is shaking, too. He can hear his brother’s thought process here- the words of a broken man, exiled from the nation he founded and abandoned by all he thought dear.

Phil continues to have a conversation with a man long gone. “You fought so hard to get this- you fought so hard to get this land back. You fought so hard.”

(Because no matter what, the Wilbur that has died and is not yet corporeal is not the same Wilbur that pressed the button and blew up his own nation.)

_I don’t- I don’t even know if it works anymore, Phil._

“Do you- do you _really_ want to take that risk?” There’s a nervous laugh, and to anyone else it would be light-hearted- but to the brothers that are all but his _sons_ , it’s desperation. It’s his tone, laced with guilt and hope that he can prevent his son from doing something he’ll regret.

(He failed, but he doesn’t know that yet.)

_There was a saying, Phil. By a traitor- I don’t know if you’ve heard of Eret?_

In the crowd, Eret flinches, as battered and bruised as he is.

_He had a saying, Phil._

And everyone can see the way Phil’s eyes widen, and he _moves_ , he tries to stop a ghost, but instead of lurching forward the way everyone expects him to- he vanishes.

Leaving nothing behind.

No one needs to hear the remaining sentence of the shred of memory.

_It was never meant to be._

“It was never meant to be.” Wilbur whispers. “It was never meant to be- It was _never meant to be._ ”

Technoblade’s attention gets diverted to his brother. “Wil-”

“It was _NEVER MEANT TO BE!_ ”

And the ghostly version of Wilbur spins around, he places the skulls, and he makes to move to the other formations of soul sand, but _Technoblade_ of all people stops him, knocks him out- _how does that work?_ \- The warrior does not question it, and stores the skulls in his inventory carefully. Tommy takes his cue and runs off, and Technoblade carries Wilbur out, the three of them leaving and speeding off into the night.

They leave the shouting citizens behind. 

~

The battle that follows is short for some and so, so long for others. 

Short, because the adrenaline pumping through their bodies renders most of them unable to focus on anything but the five screeching withers wreaking havoc.

Long, because the few that notice the other things also see ghosts of Philza.

Philza, pushing a sword through one of the withers, eyes widening as no damage is done, and then he’s gone again.

Fundy makes the mistake of staring too long, and is knocked into the smoking crater of L’Manburg, hitting the ground at the bottom with a cry of pain.

(No one talks about how he stands up with resolve, stumbling across and climbing back up, to stand guard at Phil’s somehow untouched house.)

January 16th was a day of a lot of changes. 

~

There was no death on January 16th.

There was no one whose third life was taken. There was no one that would never breathe, would never be seen again.

There were many who lost some, and are now living dangerously close on the edge. Those who should’ve been non-belligerents- Hbomb, Ponk, Punz.

There are many who are now standing at two lives. Fundy has always been, and he’s lucky that Tommy saw it fit to spare him- but others were brought down, that shouldn’t have been, that are now more wary because of a single stray arrow- Connor, Eret, Puffy

And there are very, very few that still have all three. Niki is the only one from L’Manburg’s side that still stands at three.

The day has been hard, in an understatement. But for all the TNT that Dream and Technoblade set off, and the five withers that had wreaked havoc on the land- it was nothing at all like the doomsday everyone was expecting.

L’Manburg was once more a smoking crater. But it was nothing worse than what happened on November 16th.

They’ll manage.

And thus, the second rebuilding era of L’Manburg began.

~

But there’s an important difference. 

In one version, Phil’s soul comes back as a whole, and though he is still a ghost, he is sentient enough. Just like Ghostbur. He only remembers the events of where he stands, but he can act on his own well enough. 

But here, his soul shattered. He could not come back as one full soul, and all that’s left are the pieces- echoes of memories, replayed.

The Dream SMP learns a lot about these fragments, even though they would never find out why, exactly, Wilbur was able to come back fully while Phil was not.

(Some say that, in his final moments, he gave up a piece of himself to restore Wilbur. That _that_ is why Wilbur remembers all the memories.)

There are key things.

That once a memory has been played, it will not come back. Ever.

Perhaps the whisper is still there. A voice, easily lost in the wind, something you’d think you imagined- but the apparition will never be replayed again.

Never.

(They do not know whether or not _all_ the memories will replay, and so many people fear the day when they realize that they’ll never see Phil again.)

Something they also realize is that the memories are almost never exact. There is always something missing, whether that be a line, or a particular word. Often, they find that the memory will adjust itself if someone… speaks to it. 

And there’s another thing- that every day, an apparition can be _anywhere_ , and there can be any number of memories played per day. 

Which is particularly interesting, because both L’Manburg and the Arctic Anarchist Commune see him almost daily, though the arctic does more often. 

But it’s not like either side knows of the other. After January 16th, both sides stayed _far_ away from each other. 

In a way, Phil’s death fixed everything. It drew the proper lines, while also blurring them well enough, so that people knew who to stand with, and family knew to stand together- and in addition, those that wanted to help everyone had very good reason to.

But in another way, Phil’s death shattered everything. To Tommy and Tubbo, their relationship became so full of twists and turns- too many cracks littered the bridge between them, and the water would fill up to the point where none of them could cross it, more often than not. And L’Manburg’s people turned on Tubbo ever so easily.

In another way, Phil’s death was the end of everything. From the moment Phil died, he unknowingly prevented what would’ve been years more of war, strife and conflict. But he also started a chain of events that led to the entire server, being, in the end, gone.

~

Let me tell you a story, dear readers. A different ending to the tale that you were never meant to know. 

In a way, everything is the same. But everything is different, as well. 

Would you like to know how?

~

Tubbo knows that he’s falling out of favour.

He’s not stupid. Though he’s a young president, he’s a president nonetheless, and he knows how to read the crowd. He knows that revoking the hunts against Technoblade and the Arctic Anarchist commune as a whole bring criticism, and compounded with the murder, however unintentional it was, he is not expected to win again.

So he takes his chances where he can. He does not know how the election of February 16th will affect him and his fate, so he’ll cherish the few days he has left within L’Manburg.

He’s taking a stroll, and pauses at Phil’s house. The wood has been kept in pristine condition, Ranboo and Fundy doing a careful job at cleaning everything, making sure that nothing rots and that Friend is well fed. 

Tubbo takes a deep breath and walks in. 

He’s done this many times. Often, he’ll see one of those fragments of a memory- Phil, moving around and cleaning the windows- Phil, sorting through his chests- Phil, _standing defiantly, a fire in his eyes, tattered wings spread out as he refuses to give Quackity what he wants-_

Tubbo stops and closes his eyes, trying to ground himself through even breaths. 

_“For the country, Phil.” Quackity coaxed. “You’re a citizen of L’Manburg. We’re trying to get justice for the country- you should care as much about this as we do.”_

_Phil nearly snorted at that. “See, Quackity, I don’t understand where you got my loyalty to L’Manburg from. I’ve only been here for a month- and quite frankly, all of you- all of you.” He eyes Fundy and Tubbo at this. “Have yet to prove to me that you’re worthy of my loyalty.”_

_“What-” Fundy spluttered. “I’m your grandson!”_

_“My grandson,” Phil nearly snarled. “Is covered in blood and is hunting down my son. And Fundy, mate, you have to understand that I don’t just accept someone as a grandson. To me, you’re just a friend.”_

_“I’m your son too.” Tubbo protested._

_Tubbo can see the way Phil’s eyes flash with… something. Regret? Sadness? Guilt? Disappointment?_

_Probably a mix of them all._

_“Technoblade has changed.” Phil grits out. “He’s minding his own business now- in retirement. He’s changed. You have no business hunting down your brother now, Tubbo.”_

He shakes his head, ridding himself of the memory. He remembers the day when he saw that particular memory. It was not a good day.

Sighing, Tubbo climbs up the ladder, to the balcony. The blood had been cleaned, making it a _little_ easier to stand where Phil- _don’t think about it._

As if on cue, Phil materializes. And he’s staring off into the distance, and Tubbo can almost fool himself into believing that this isn’t _the_ memory- except he knows from the bottom of his heart that it _is._ Because he can see the monitor strapped to Phil’s ankle.

Every instinct in him is yelling at him to run, that he _cannot_ watch this again- but Tubbo stays frozen in a kind of morbid curiosity.

Then, there’s the yell of celebration-

And then the flaming arrow is launched, seemingly out of nowhere, and Phil stumbles back- _once, twice-_ there is blood, and though it’s not the bright crimson that it once was, it doesn’t make it any easier.

If anything, watching his death up close is even harder.

Tubbo is frozen as he watches the emotions flicker across the apparition’s face- betrayal, shock, very, very brief relief and then horror, then defeat as Phil slumps onto the floor. And a final thing- guilt? As he reaches into his pocket and clutches on the emerald. 

Then he’s dead, and the eyes stare up at Tubbo.

Even when he has vanished, and even when all the ghostly, fake blood has disappeared from the pristine wood, Tubbo cannot move, and he stays like that until Ranboo realizes that Tubbo is not at the cabinet meeting, and finds him, standing there, hours later, staring at someone who was never there. 

That day, the president does not attend any cabinet meetings. 

Instead, he sits in his room, breaking the bow that killed his fath- that killed _Phil_ , tearing it part, stripping the wood until there is nothing left of it. He snaps the string and tears the wood apart, getting splinters in the process, but he doesn’t care.

He doesn’t care that Dream is announcing the transfer of ownership to Sam, and that Sam will be taking over the Greater Dream SMP as well as the administrator responsibilities of this world. 

He doesn’t care that Dream, George and Sapnap- the root of their problems, the original people L’Manburg vowed to fight against, are leaving- perhaps for their own good, but Tubbo doesn’t care. 

And days later, when the time comes for there to be another election, he does not care that everyone is all but forbidding him to run away. Which is fine, because he never planned to run anyway. 

He doesn’t care that Ranboo is elected president, and all he does is exchange a handshake, give a speech, and listen to Ranboo’s inauguration with a bitter, brittle smile on his face.

He doesn’t care that L’Manburg has not exiled him, because Tommy, Wilbur, Techno and Phil are not here.

Because his family is not here. 

~

In a way, L’Manburg is so, very lifeless.

Fundy has never really expected much out of L’Manburg. In all honesty, all he wanted it to be is a peaceful home for him- and if Tommy had to be exiled for it, he selfishly admits that he’d do it. 

And now, L’Manburg has been rebuilt. But though the paths are designed the same, and though everyone’s houses are in the same place, it’s… it’s not quite the same. 

Perhaps it’s the fact that no one remembers _exactly_ how their houses once were, and there’s something different for everyone. Perhaps someone forgets that they used dark oak instead of oak, and now the shades of brown aren’t the same. 

Perhaps it’s the fact that the bee farm is no longer there, the owner of it having lost care for it. The ruins aren’t cleaned up, either- they remain like that, forever a reminder of the loss the nation sustained, and what failures they all really are.

Or it might be the very clear lack of Chinese lanterns, for Ghostbur is no longer Ghostbur, and Wilbur honestly couldn’t care less about this nation anymore. There are no more floating lights illuminating the nation at night, and no one knows how to recreate them.

Or it might be the fact that Fundy is sitting on the path, feet in the water as he fishes, alone. With no one beside him. 

Fundy stares as the line bobs, and he reels his catch in, only to find out it’s a lily pad. He sighs, and puts it into his inventory to burn later. 

_Do you know how to fish?_

Fundy spins around and is met with his grandfather. Not the spiteful, disappointed and angry one from December 16th. This one is the one with kind eyes and a smile always playing on his lips, readily helping everyone in L’Manburg.

“No.” Fundy swallows dryly. “No, I don’t.”

That’s far from the truth. In the weeks following that initial night between them, Fundy has practiced until he could fish easily. 

But Fundy is a liar. 

Phil smiles. _That’s alright. Here, I’ll show you._

He sits down at the edge, and Fundy takes his seat right beside him. Phil pulls out his own fishing rod- a shimmering, translucent thing, and prepares it. Fundy clutches his own, watching and memorizing every movement. 

_So you hold it up like this, right? Aim it… look up at the sky… around forty five degrees, probably. Forty-five degrees, and then you- cast it out._

And Fundy follows along as always, and Phil stares as his line bobs, and reels in a fish- even the fish he catches is ghostly, monochromatic as it flops around in Phil’s hands. He holds it, and watches Fundy’s line.

And Fundy’s line does not bob. “I think I screwed up.”

_That’s alright. That’s alright._

Fundy reels in nothing.

 _Try again._ Phil says, tone as encouraging as Fundy remembers it, and they cast out their lines at the same time. 

Last time, Fundy remembers that the sun was rising, making it easier to see if the bait was taken. Tubbo was there too, and Ghostbur- Wilbur- was floating around, innocent and wondering.

Fundy is selfishly glad that he has this moment to himself, and stares at his bobber.

“...Okay.”

_Do you want me to tell you when?_

“...Yeah.” He doesn’t need it, but it’s nice. It’s nice to relive this moment.

He knows what he’s supposed to say next. _The sun is rising._

But it’s not, and the memory stutters for a single moment, before it relaxes and continues, laughing at a sentence never said. 

_Ready, ready… now!_

Fundy reels in and catches a cod.

Phil’s smile is wide. _You got it!_

Fundy can’t bring himself to be as excited as he was, that day, but a smile spreads on his own face as well. “Yeah. I got it.”

_It’s that easy._

“Yeah.”

 _And now- and now, what we do, because we don’t want them to die- we throw them back in. They’re going to look just a little dead-_ Fundy snorts- _but it’s fine. They’ll swim away._

So Fundy throws the cod back in just as Phil throws his own, and they watch as those two fish float before swimming away. 

In the original memory, this is where Ghostbur shows up. But, as if some other higher power noticed Fundy’s plea, the memory is modified, and then- _Wanna go again?_

Fundy smiles widely.

And they spend the rest of the night fishing like that, under the cover of darkness, even though one of the company is but a memory. And though Fundy looks over every few seconds, at first, scared that the memory will disappear- at some point, he takes Phil’s presence for granted.

He reels in a Luck of the Sea III enchanted book.

Fundy gets excited. “Phil! Phil, look!”

In that moment, he feels so much like the little boy Wilbur once called him. But he turns around, and Phil is not there.

The smile falls off his face as he holds the drenched book, staring at the place where the ghost used to be. Even the translucent lily pads and tripwires and all the other trash Phil had collected had now vanished.

Fundy mourns, for a moment, for the memory that he will never see again. Forlorn, he stares at the little pile of trash he has collected, and tucks the book away in his inventory. He casts out his line again.

Over the horizon, the sun rises.

~

Technoblade trades a few emeralds for an enchanted book with one of the librarians in the village. At this point, the Arctic Anarchist commune is just an aimless group dwelling in the north.

The days following January 16th were the hardest. Wilbur had not taken seeing the memory too well, and for three terrifying days Wilbur seemed to be spiraling back into the madness that destroyed them all. 

But there was the day when the three brothers froze at the apparition of Phil, of the day when Technoblade decided that he was going to renounce violence. On the day that he promised to retire. 

Technoblade remembers that day vividly. And though the apparition has moved on, he can still replay the events with perfect clarity in his mind.

_“I think this is the start of a new era, okay?” Technoblade paced back and forth, feeling Phil’s eyes on him. “You know I tried the whole violence route. I tried violence, I tried to reason with them, I tried to stop government at all costs but it didn't work; I could not change the hearts of men- the greed- it was too hard to drive out, so you know what? I'm just going into retirement, Phil. I'm just going to chill.”_

_Techno threw his hands into the air. “I'm going to stop using violence to convince people- I'm just going to chill in the Arctic North... Maybe I'll start a farm or something, y'know? I'll stop being a terrorist because it ain't convincing nobody Phil.” Phil gave a dry chuckle, at that. “They just keep making new governments. I still believe... that governments are no good- they're just ruining everything- but you know... people are free to make their mistakes at this point.”_

_“I’d say, yeah.” Phil replied easily. “So you’ll just stay up here?”_

_“I’m not- Phil, I’m not leaving you behind.”_

_“Techno, mate.” Phil’s eyes softened. “Tommy and Tubbo are my sons too. And you know they won’t abandon L’Manburg, as much as a lost cause that may be. I can’t just leave them.”_

_Technoblade swallowed. “No, that’s fine, I just- Phil, I want you to have this.”_

_He gives him a compass._

_“If you- if you ever need me, and I mean this, Phil,_ **_ever_ ** _, know that I will come for you. I will fight for you. This compass points directly to me.”_

_“To you?” Phil asked, amused. “Or the lodestone in the corner?”_

_“Well- the lodestone in the corner-” Technoblade stuttered. “But my point remains.”_

_And Phil gives that light laugh, at that moment, that always comforts Techno and always makes him feel like everything’s alright. “Thank you.”_

That’s the memory that brought Wilbur back to his senses. Techno doesn’t know how- maybe it was the lightness of seeing a carefree and smiling, laughing Phil, even after Wilbur all but forced Phil to kill him, but it was enough to remind Wilbur that Phil wouldn’t want this.

They’ve taken their revenge. They can rest, now.

Technoblade hums mindlessly as he moves over to the other villagers, giving carrots for a few more emeralds and a few sticks as well, when he hears soft footsteps. Not like the shuffling of villagers- too heavy to be Tommy, and Wilbur doesn’t even walk- he turns around, and there is Phil.

The warrior is a bit used to seeing Phil all around, now. At least once a day, Phil is somewhere- reading a book, perhaps, or looking over the turtles, or tending to the honey farm. Of course, he never actually makes a difference, all traces of him vanishing at some point- but it’s nice to see him. Today, Phil is walking along, laughing.

Techno can hear his own voice echo in the wind, complaining about being robbed, and he sees that moment when a guilty look crosses over Phil’s ghostly face.

And he knows which memory this is, and a small smile crosses onto his face. “Phil, did you take my bookcases?”

_Mmmm… anyway-_

He can’t help the chuckle that escapes him, and follows the ghost. The villagers seem to give him sad looks as he passes by, but he couldn’t care less.

“As I was saying that I wondered, like- who would think to take the bookcases?” Phil continued to chortle, and as echo-like as it was, it was comforting. 

_Me._ Phil admits. _I mean, I made certain that you didn’t want anything there…_

“I thought you meant in the chests, I didn’t think you’d start taking the walls!” Technoblade exclaims, though there’s less enthusiasm compared to what he remembers. The memory pays no attention, however, and they continue the friendly banter.

_No I- bruh- ha-_

“I didn’t think-”

_I mean I did ask do you need anything from this base, and you were like ‘no sure take whatever’_

“I thought you meant in the chests- not the _walls_ -”

_I asked ‘so I can take anything?’ and you were like yep-_

“You took the _floor-_ ”

_Pfft-_

And they laugh for a little longer, but Techno knows that this memory is ending, and he reiterates his promise once again.

“You know what- For you, the world, Phil.”

But instead of the laugh he’s supposed to get in response, all he gets is a smile tinged with sadness, as Phil fades away once again. And Techno is left alone, with nothing but an emerald and the echoes of a memory that will never play again.

With a sigh, he leaves the village and starts trekking back through the snow, to their home. 

He doesn’t know it, but it’s the last day he sees Phil.

~

Nothing lasts forever.

From the day Phil died, things started to fall apart for the Dream SMP. The Dream Team, surprisingly were the first ones to leave- determining that this world has done nothing good for them, they had all agreed, unanimously, to take time for themselves. Away from all the conflict. 

And slowly, L’Manburg fell. So many of them found out that they were no longer standing for what they were founded on. Ranboo saw this too, and didn’t want to hold the people to a loyalty he knew they needed someone else to give up for them- and thus, on March 16th, L’Manburg was officially dissolved.

Then the Badlands left the server, along with most of L’Manburg. The crimson was slowly taking over, and they found no more point in world domination when the world in question was so empty. Some left to chase their friends, who had left before them. Ranboo moved to the arctic, where the brothers were based. Tubbo, however, was not welcome, and he knew. He disappeared, and no one knows where he went.

And the Arctic Anarchists continued to live a stagnant life in the north.

It wasn’t all bad. They became, again, the brothers they once were- and when Ranboo came knocking on the door, announcing L’Manburg had been dissolved, Tommy had engulfed the enderman hybrid in a hug, tears filling both of their eyes. They cried, and they laughed, and they were a family.

But the hardest part for them was that Phil was gone.

Because all the memories had been played, and there were no more fragments of his soul to be seen by anyone, anymore. The whispers were there, but they would only catch them on occasion, when they just so happened to be listening for them and when the wind decided to be merciful.

And eventually, they left the server.

The four of them moved into their childhood world, where Phil used to raise them. They would spend the rest of their days being a family, with no conflict but the friendly banter and bickering. 

Sometimes, Tommy would wish Tubbo were there with them. But no one has heard of Tubbo ever since the dissolution, and he doubts that they ever will.

Sometimes, Ranboo wonders how Niki and Eret are doing. He knows that perhaps, they should go and try to find them, but the brothers are not ready, and perhaps will never be.

Sometimes, Wilbur wonders what will happen when his brothers inevitably die. He knows that he may just haunt this plane of existence forever, and never see them again when that time comes.

And they all know, with absolute certainty, that no one will ever go back to the Dream SMP.

But here’s a thing, reader. Sam believes that perhaps, someday, everyone should know of what should’ve made history. The wars fought, the duels dueled, and the people killed. He writes a book- several books, chronicles, detailing everything that had happened in the Dream SMP.

He leaves them all in a chest, in the middle of Pandora’s Vault. He hopes that one day, someone will best his creation, and someone will find them.

November 16th.

December 16th.

January 16th.

February 16th.

March 16th.

Then he leaves the server open.

Years pass. No one finds the books. The group known as the Sleepy Bois vanish from the public eye, and the name Dream SMP fades away.

But there are legends.

They say that if you sneak into that mysterious, forever opened server, you will see old and crumbling buildings, twisting, crimson vines, and a prison that holds mysterious and valuable treasures.

They say that if you travel to the north on that same server, and brave the cold, freezing elements, you will find a cabin in the sea of snow, holding riches never used by their owners.

And they say that if you listen closely enough, you can hear someone teach someone to fish, and hear them read, and hear them laugh.

And hear them sing.

A silent requiem.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And ig we come to a close  
> I spent so long combing through streams for those scenes lmao  
> anyway hope to see y'all around in some of my other fics :))
> 
> ~jello

**Author's Note:**

> If you guys want more maybe I'll add? Idk, I have two ongoing fics and two ongoing series, so idek
> 
> My discord: https://discord.gg/HwbkW8jqrf  
> My YT channel: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCQHHEpmzIrOYyxX659-3tfA
> 
> Comments and Kudos appreciated


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